Dark Side :(

Being sick, isolating yourself and being alone with your thoughts can be unhealthy.

I met with my Lawyer because he recieved my disclosure on my case... and ofcourse all those thoughts are now running through my head. I hate not knowing what is going to happen and waiting for the verdict. It makes me so nervous and makes me feel sick. I thought I got over the whole DUI Depression but it seems that its making its way back. I start to hate myself all over again and want to wake up from this terrible nightmare.

Even someone as optimistic as me is starting to worry. I am grateful that I didn't kill anyone and yes I have definitley learned such a big lesson but its just so hard to deal with. I start to have feelings of worthlessness and start remembering that I am in fact, a convict! How terrible does that sound? I never thought this day would come, ever. I really am hoping my trial goes well and that everything will be back to normal. The good news is that I can start driving again very soon and I cannot wait for that moment.

:(

Epiphany

I realized that soon after everything with Mike that I have been thinking about Rob and the possibility of reconciliation. I have also realized that it is absolutely normal for me to be thinking back on Rob because of this new man... its human nature to compare. I have been guilty of acting out on my thoughts of Rob and it has only lead me to realize one thing..... he doesn't care, and its time to move on.

I finally had an awakening today and feel the need to move on mentally too. My family still thinks I am with Rob because I don't have the heart to tell them I'm not. I have decided that this week I will tell my family the truth about Rob. The reason why I held back was because I never wanted anyone to think badly of him in case we did get back together.

Moving on means going full force. If I'm going to make this choice, I'm going to do it right. I have started by deleting his phone number from his phone today (which took a lot), but it is a start.

I am kind of excited to move on and see what else is out there........ weird, but it's something new for me.

Good-day!

Cant We Talk?

A married couple was in a car when the wife turned to her husband and asked, "Would you like to stop for a coffee?"
"No, thanks," he answered truthfully. So they didn't stop.
The result? The wife, who had indeed wanted to stop, became annoyed because she felt her preference had not been considered. The husband, seeing his wife was angry, became frustrated. Why didn't she just say what she wanted?
Unfortunately, he failed to see that his wife was asking the question not to get an instant decision, but to begin a negotiation. And the woman didn't realize that when her husband said no, he was just expressing his preference, not making a ruling. When a man and woman interpret the same interchange in such conflicting ways, it's no wonder they can find themselves leveling angry charges of selfishness and obstinacy at each other.
As a specialist in linguistics, I have studied how the conversational styles of men and women differ. We cannot lump all men or all women into fixed categories. But the seemingly senseless misunderstandings that haunt our relationships can in part be explained by the different conversational rules by which men and women play.
Whenever I write or speak about this subject, people tell me they are relieved to learn that what has caused them trouble - and what they had previously ascribed to personal failings - is, in fact, very common.
Learning about the different though equally valid conversational frequencies men and women are tuned to can help banish the blame and help us truly talk to one another. Here are some of the most common areas of conflict:
Status vs. Support.
Men grow up in a world in which a conversation is often a contest, either to achieve the upper hand or to prevent other people from pushing them around. For women, however, talking is often a way to exchange confirmation and support.
I saw this when my husband and I had jobs in different cities. People frequently made comments like, "That must be rough," and "How do you stand it?" I accepted their sympathy and sometimes even reinforced it, saying, "The worst part is having to pack and unpack al the time."
But my husband often reacted with irritation. Our situation had advantages, he would explain. As academics, we had four-day weekends together, as well as long vacations throughout the year and four months in the summer.
Everything he said was true, but I didn't understand why he chose to say it. He told me that some of the comments implied: "Yours is not a real marriage. I am superior to you because my wife and I have avoided your misfortune." Until then it had not occurred to me there might be an element of one- upmanship.
I now see that my husband was simply approaching the world as many men do: as a place where people try to achieve and maintain status. I, on the other hand, was approaching the world as many women do: as a network of connections seeking support and consensus.
Independence vs. Intimacy.
Since women often think in terms of closeness and support, they struggle to preserve intimacy. Men, concerned with status, tend to focus more on independence. These traits can lead women and men to starkly different views of the same situation.
When Josh's old high-school friend called him at work to say he'd be in town, Josh invited him to stay for the weekend. That evening he told Linda they were having a house guest.
Linda was upset. How could Josh make these plans without discussing them with her beforehand? She would never do that to him. "Why don't you tell your friend you have to check with your wife?" she asked.
Josh replied, "I can't tell my friend, 'I have to ask my wife for permission'!"
To Josh, checking with his wife would mean he was not free to act on his own. It would make him feel like a child or an underling. But Linda actually enjoys telling someone, "I have to check with Josh." It makes her feel good to show that her life is intertwined with her husband's.
Advice vs. Understanding.
Eve had a benign lump removed from her breast. When she confided to her husband, Mark, that she was distressed because the stitches changed the contour of her breast, he answered, "You can always have plastic surgery."
This comment bothered her. "I'm sorry you don't like the way it looks," she protested. "But I'm not having any more surgery!"
Mark was hurt and puzzled. "I don't care about a scar," he replied. "It doesn't bother me at all."
"Then why are you telling me to have plastic surgery?" she asked.
"Because you were upset about the way it looks."
Eve felt like a heel. Mark had been wonderfully supportive throughout her surgery. How could she snap at him now?
The problem stemmed from a difference in approach. To many men a complaint is a challenge to come up with a solution. Mark thought he was reassuring Eve by telling her there was something she could do about her scar. But often women are looking for emotional support, not solutions.
When my mother tells my father she doesn't feel well, he invariably offers to take her to the doctor. Invariably, she is disappointed with his reaction. Like many men, he is focused on what he can do, whereas she wants sympathy.
Information vs. Feelings.
A cartoon shows a husband opening a newspaper and asking his wife, "Is there anything you'd like to say to me before I start reading the paper?" We know there isn't - but that as soon as the man begins reading, his wife will think of something.
The cartoon is funny because people recognize their own experience in it. What's not funny is that many women are hurt when men don't talk to them at home, and many men are frustrated when they disappoint their partners without knowing why.
Rebecca, who is happily married, told me this is a source of dissatisfaction with her husband, Stuart. When she tells him what she is thinking, he listens silently. When she asks him what is on his mind, he says, "Nothing."
All Rebecca's life she has had practice in verbalizing her feelings with friends and relatives. But Stuart has had practice in keeping his innermost thoughts to himself. To him, like most men, talk is information. He doesn't feel that talk is required at home.
Yet many such men hold center stage in a social setting, telling jokes and stories. They use conversation to claim attention and to entertain. Women can wind up hurt that their husbands tell relative strangers things they have not told them.
To avoid this kind of misunderstanding, both men and women can make adjustments. A woman may observe a man's desire to read the paper without seeing it is a rejection. And a man can understand a woman's desire to talk without feeling it is a manipulative intrusion.
Orders vs. Proposals.
Diana often begins statements with "Let's." She might say "Let's park over there" or "Let's clean up now, before lunch."
This makes Nathan angry. He has deciphered Diana's "Let's" as a command. Like most men, he resists being told what to do. But to Diana, she is making suggestions, not demands. Like most women, she formulates her requests as proposals rather than orders. Her style of talking is a way of getting others to do what she wants - but by winning agreement first.
With certain men, like Nathan, this tactic backfires. If they perceive someone is trying to get them to do something indirectly, they feel manipulated and respond more resentfully than they would to a straightforward request.
Conflict vs. Compromise.
In trying to prevent fights, some women refuse to oppose the will of others openly. But sometimes it's far more effective for a woman to assert herself, even at the risk of conflict.
Dora was frustrated by a series of used cars she drove. It was she who commuted to work, but her husband, Hank, who chose the cars. Hank always went for cars that were "interesting" but in continual need of repair.
After Dora was nearly killed when her brakes failed, they were in the market for yet another used car. Dora wanted to buy a late-model sedan from a friend. Hank fixed his sights on a 15-year-old sports car. She tried to persuade Hank that it made more sense to buy the boring but dependable car, but he would not be swayed.
Previously she would have acceded to his wishes. This time Dora bought the boring but dependable car and steeled herself for Hanks' anger. To her amazement, he spoke not a word of remonstrance. When she later told him what she had expected, he scoffed at her fears and said she should have done what she wanted from the start if she felt that strongly about it.
As Dora discovered, a little conflict won't kill you. At the same time, men who habitually oppose others can adjust their style to opt for less confrontation.
When we don't see style differences for what they are, we sometimes draw unfair conclusions: "You're illogical," "You're self- centered," "You don't care about me." But once we grasp the two characteristic approaches, we stand a better chance of preventing disagreements from spiraling out of control.
Learning the other's ways of talking is a leap across the communication gap between men and women, and a giant step towards genuine understanding.

Water For Granted?

I've always thought about this for a while and its time I just let it out. If you're reading this from anywhere in the North America or in any other developed nations.. chances are good that you can easily go to your kitchen and get yourself a glass of clean, cool water. Right? Or if you've had a long stressful day.. you can come home to a nice warm bath... right?

Unfortunatley, that's not the case in some parts of the world. In such places, children have to walk miles and miles just to get a bucket of murky water.. Which they then have to carry back to their families. These families often have to go to the nearest body of water and bathe themselves there. Picture a swamp.. you wouldn't dare step foot in it.. but sometimes thats what people have to bathe in. Its hard to picture, given that we don't have such circumstances.. but it's real.. and it's happening in other countries out there.

As Canadians, we go swimming, play with water balloons, go to swimming lessons, have water parks, beautiful fountains to look at and various other activies in which we participate which have to do with water..........Which is fine and all, we have the luxury of water, so why wouldn't we?
But, a child in a non-developed country is literally dying to just have ONE sip of water.. but we are here PLAYING in water? making water balloon PRANKS out of water??.. We are so PRIVLEDGED!! We are so fortunate to have access to clean, drinking water.

We often take our water here for granted, but we shouldn't. SO, appreciate every sip of water you drink.. and when you're out there playing in water... remember that there is someone out there who would die for a sip of it. Just be thankful.. be grateful.. and give to others and charity when you can.

Patience

I have always been the impatient type. I like to do things quickly and get them over and done with. I normally don't have patience with anything but seniors and pets. Its true.

Have you met me a year ago, you would've wanted to punch me in my face... I would be the angry girl in traffic whose mad that she has to wait. However, a lot has changed from last year to now.. and boy am I ever glad!

They say that in life we are all here to learn lessons.. I really believe I have to learn patience.. and it really is the hardest lesson to learn! It seems that the biggest things that I want to happen in life are delayed because of this. My Dad is supposed to be home and we should have been moved into our new house years ago! But ofcourse- All in divine timing... which isn't probably this Fall now. The guy I was madly in love with always left me for months on end and then would return.. I would have to patiently wait for his return. Having my licence taken away from me now has left me to wait 90 days now until I can drive. I love driving! I have always been so independent, doing everything on my own.. driving myself everywhere.. and now- I have to wait to drive.

It is annoying but I've become so patient now that its all just funny to me. I learned to enjoy life and take the time to smell the roses. I believe everything happens for a reason. So bring on the time delays! Im ok with it.................

On that note, i'd like to share a story.. please read:

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'

'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive through downtown?'

'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly..

'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice..'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired.Let's go now'.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.

'Nothing,' I said

'You have to make a living,' she answered.

'There are other passengers,' I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

A bad nightmare

Friday night I went out with some friends to a gathering at her house for a wine tasting party. The night started off really well. The weather was amazing it was hot but with a cool breeze, everyone was in a good mood and it was the start of our long weekend for Canada Day.

I had a couple drinks of wine and knew I was beginning to feel a bit tipsy. Not the type of tipsy where your unaware of your surroundings, but just enough to make you smile like an idiot for no reason at all.

I stopped drinking after a while and just began talking to my friends about completley random things. Before I knew it, it was 12 am. I felt perfectly fine and made a (poor) judgement that I was good to drive. In my defence, I did not feel drunk at all.

I headed to my car and put the radio on as I pulled out of the driveway. I turned the corner to go towards the highway ramp where I saw a hold up and bright lights. Shit, it's the R.I.D.E Program.

I pull over to the officer who asks me if I had been drinking. Without thinking, I immediately admit that I had one drink earlier. He asks for me to breathe into his face and I do as I'm told. In that moment I wish I had been chewing gum.. The look on his face scared me. Uh Oh, I'm in shit. I had no time to filter my thoughts or to gather my wits. I was told to park my vehicle and then follow the officer into the R.I.D.E trailer. I walked into the trailer which was filled with many young adults. There was the typical nonchalant I'm-not-guilty-so-I-don't-give-a-fuck guy and then there were the girls who were sobbing and couldn't even breathe, too make matters worse, they were screaming.

Surprisingly, I wasnt scared, worried or shocked. I just didnt care for some reason. I had a calmness that came over me, which til this day I dont know what it was. I was asked to breathe into a device and I did as I was told. Fuck, whats it going to read? But Im not even drunk, it was only 2 glasses of wine is what runs through my head. Without having a chance to get myself together, Im told to stand up and I do as Im told. The officer turns me around and handcuffs me. Wtf? Im being treated like a convict! this is so un fair. Is this really happening? A part of me also wants to laugh, I find it way too surreal. The officer read me my rights and told me I was under arrest for blowing over 80. I just nodded my head and looked down. He asked if I wished to speak to a lawyer and I explained to him that I had not been in such a predicament before and that I do not have a lawyer. He asks me to speak with legal aide.

I go into this metal boothe and Im told to not touch the phone until it rings. Sounds like a sketchy drug deal you see in a movie. Regardless of the situation Im in I couldnt help but to think stupid thoughts in my head. The phone rings and theres a lawyer on the other end of the phone "Ok, you will be out of there in about 45 minutes. Do not provide any blood or urine samples. Do you understand?" I said yes. He then proceeded to tell me more but I couldnt understand or hear anything he was saying because of all the distruption going on in the trailer. I got nervous and just hung up.

When I got out, the officier sat down and told me I had to take another test. Which, I failed. I gotta say though, the officiers were very very nice to me. They removed my handcuffs and told me that this is not something they normally do but they are doing it for me because I am cooperating and making their job easier. I smiled and thanked them. I had to wait 15 minutes before my next test so I engaged in a conversation with the officer. We talked about his job, basketball and his family. He was so kind, and I could tell that he felt bad for how my situation went down. I dont blame the guy, hes just doing his job.

In a sense. I'm kind of glad I got caught, who did I think I was? What if I hit someone? What if I took someone's life? That is not something I could ever live with. I could live with a DUI which I could potentially fight off.

Anyways, couple minutes later I did my second test and failed. I wasnt suprised. After all, only 15 minutes had passed. I wasnt sad or shocked. I just kind of went with it. I got to call my family and tell them what happened. I called My Dad, Mom, Brothers and Brothers GF in that exact order. I had to wait for someone to pick me up, and I had about 30 minutes to kill.

I continued talking to the officer, who was giving me some advice regarding my allergy medication I was on at the time I was drinking. We shared some jokes and tried to make light of the situation.

Long story short, I got dropped back home. Slept. Woke up the next morning and thought "FUCK, it wasn't a dream."